


An Echoless Valley

by Peapods



Series: The Fire Thief [12]
Category: Twin Peaks
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-06-02 23:05:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19451326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peapods/pseuds/Peapods
Summary: There’s something about the way Windom Earle talks, the hat he wears, and the look in his eyes that has Albert Rosenfield’s hackles up quicker than a bag full of feral cats.





	An Echoless Valley

**Author's Note:**

> This piece jumps throughout my series and show/book canon. And really, it's not about Windom Earle at all except for the parts where it is.

Albert and Earle dislike each other on sight. This isn’t, precisely, a new thing for Albert, but usually the enmity he attracts comes _after_ he opens his mouth and insults someone. There’s something about the way Earle talks, the hat he wears, and the look in his eyes that has Albert’s hackles up quicker than a bag full of feral cats.

Cooper knows him and appears to worship him and that’s enough for Albert to retain his suspicions. Cooper is prone to optimism regarding people's motivations. That Albert feels a tinge of possessiveness has nothing to do with it, he’s sure.

“Ah, our pet forensic genius,” Earle says during their introduction. “I hear interesting things about you, Agent Rosenfield.”

“Really,” Albert says flatly. He’s only been in the position a month. He’s only been in Pittsburgh for two weeks. He has no idea what part of his reputation may have preceded him.

“Mmm yes. Cracked that murder in Portland, did you not?”

“I was the agent of record,” Albert prevaricates. 

“No wonder Cole wanted you.”

Cooper is grinning in the background. Albert wants to snap at him because nothing about this exchange is friendly, but Cooper has stuck out his neck for Albert a couple times already. He’s earned the right to Albert’s thin thread of patience. But the air around him feels close and toxic. Rather than simply irritated, Albert feels pressed in, anxious.

“And here I thought it was for my pretty face,” he deadpans. He gets down to business, eager to have the other man out of his department. “Your John Doe is a 35 year old smoker from the great wild north. Probably works in a paper mill and comes from poverty.”

When the meeting ends, Cooper thanks him before taking his leave. Earle is right behind him, but before he exits, he takes one last, assessing glance at Albert. Albert hopes he returns it with interest.

There’s something not right about that man.

*****

With so few agents privy to the strange cases the Blue Rose Task Force deals with, Albert finds himself in Earle’s company more than he’d normally be or prefer. He’s not always with Cooper. On one call out, Chet Desmond, their newest recruit and so green there’s practically pollen behind his ears, shares with him that he doesn’t like or particularly trust the senior agent.

“His interrogation borders on cruelty. As I understand it, Agent Cooper is rarely with him for those.”

Albert doesn’t confirm or deny. Cooper still thinks the sun shines out the psycho’s ass. Gordon only pays attention to team dynamics when he remembers to and that’s not often. Jeffries, if he was around, would probably insist on some bizarre team-building exercise where they’re all dropped in a maze with machetes and wild dogs chasing them. Desmond has been known to get into fistfights with local law enforcement. The investigating agent usually has to apologize for Albert’s mouth at any given point in the investigation. They’re all a little fucked up, Earle most of all.

“Not a team player, are you, Rosenfield?” Earle asks in a silky tone, during one case. 

Albert barely glances up from the corpse. Earle’s presence has a way of taking all the air out of the room. Earle knows perfectly well what Albert’s personality is. It’s a leading question.

“You get along with Dale though, hmm?”

The hand holding the tweezers twitches as the other shoe drops, but he steadies immediately, carefully inserting it into the body’s ear. “Agent Cooper shows little propensity to waste my time with stupid questions and shallow observations, so yes, you could say I ‘get along’ with him.” He tries takes a subtle, deep breath, but it’s like he’s stuck in a nightmare; he’s drawing breath, but there is no relief in it.

“Mmm, he’s such a good soul. Full of good intentions and integrity.”

“While this examination of Agent Cooper’s character and ability to make friends wherever he goes is fascinating, perhaps we could postpone it for a time when I’m not trying to extract a crumbling piece of paper from an ear,” Albert snaps, finally. 

“My thanks for your dedication, Agent Rosenfield. Please do let me know what you find out.”

Albert breathes.

*****

His entrance into Twin Peaks may be termed ignominious by any feeling person, but Albert can hardly help himself. Coop’s voice on the phone had a quality to it that Albert found familiar, but couldn’t place. When he sees Cooper’s face, he knows it for what it is: the same feeling he got when Cooper stood behind that nutcase Windom Earle and smiled like a cat who’d just brought him a dead bird.

That dead bird had gutted Cooper in heart and body. Albert can only imagine what the hell this weird ass town will do.

*****

“EARLE GOT OUT,” Gordon announces when Albert enters the room with his latest report.

“Shit,” Albert slips.

“PRECISELY. ALBERT, I DO NOT BELIEVE I NEED TO EXPLAIN THE MANY WAYS IN WHICH THIS IS BAD NEWS.”

“Have you told Cooper?” Albert asks, loudly.

“IF THAT REPORT IS ABOUT WHAT I THINK IT’S ABOUT, I SHALL LEAVE THE ROLE OF MESSENGER TO YOU, ALBERT. NOT SOMETHING A MAN SHOULD HEAR OVER THE PHONE.”

Albert’s fairly certain the method of delivery will make little difference to Cooper and Albert has never been called the most compassionate soul when it comes to breaking bad news. But Gordon is right. He’s going back to Twin Peaks to check on Cooper’s health and deliver his report. It only makes sense that he be the one to tell him.

Albert’s vicious schadenfreude after Earle was fingered as Cooper’s attacker hadn’t lasted beyond a few brief moments. Albert liked being proven right about the man’s character, but that it came at Cooper’s expense left him cold and sick to his stomach. 

“You are protective of him,” Gordon says at the most normal volume he can attempt.

“He’s shown little propensity to protect himself,” Albert defends, fiddling with his tie. 

“This is no criticism, Albert. Dale Cooper is a special man. He needs protection.”

Albert wonders aloud how a man who doesn’t carry a gun is supposed to protect anyone. It’s the sort of pitiful statement he half-hopes Gordon can’t hear.

“You protect him with your heart, Albert. A forensics genius you may be, but that’s not why I hired you.”

*****

After Gordon tells him that Earle has escaped, Albert throws a chair. It’s probably the closest he’s ever come to violating his creed, but if anyone was going to inspire that kind of violence, it was Windom fucking Earle.

At breakfast in the Great Northern, watching Cooper put away food like a squirrel in winter, he indulges the man’s strange love of Tibet and even indulges in a few jokes. He’s not ready to turn Cooper’s world on its head.

As they come to the end of their update, he studies the man he has come to think of as his partner. Cooper seems surprised and even, if Albert was prone to romantic sentiment, touched when he asks after his health and he has to immediately look away. Cooper has a way of completely disarming him.

When he delivers his news, he can’t help watching Cooper’s face. Coop’s no stoic, but his obvious attempt to keep his feelings under wraps forms a knot in Albert’s gut. He jokes with him, of course, but after Earle had been given the FBI equivalent of a Section 8, they’d had a frank conversation about how much Albert had disliked the agent.

_“I had no idea you felt this way,” Cooper said, quietly._

_“I made it a point not to bring it up,” Albert told him gruffly. “Gut feelings aren’t worth shit when it comes to human interactions.”_

_“On the contrary, Albert. With you, at least, I think I could always trust a gut instinct.”_

Fat load of horseshit that statement had come to. Albert had been nothing but honest in his assessment of Twin Peaks, but it was obvious Cooper was too enamored to notice how very, very off-putting Albert found the town and its residents.

Later on, after Leland, after the inquiry, he presents evidence of Earle’s obsession with Cooper with as much detachment as he can. But Cooper’s retreat to the window prompts Albert’s tender heart. He can’t stop himself from touching Coop, allowing an almost violent affection that he rarely indulges before lightening the mood as best as he can.

Amazingly, it works and Albert is graced with a brief, sincere, stunning smile worth every acid-tipped wound he’d inflicted with Caroline’s photos.

*****

They don’t find Earle after they get Cooper back. They do get Leo Johnson’s body with a bullet in it not caused by Hank Jennings. Albert would bet his post-doc that the person had FBI training. Harry and the boys keep looking at Cooper, but Albert is almost certain it was Earle. He’s not much given to intuition, but maybe some of Cooper’s wacky mojo has rubbed off on him.

A few days later, ballistics confirm that the weapon used wasn’t Cooper’s. They find a cabin where they think Earle was holed up and ask Albert to take a look.

The only way the cabin can be creepier is if the bones of Earle’s victims had been hanging on the walls. The chess set on the table matches Cooper’s in all but one move. There is obvious evidence of cohabitation. And then there is the gun.

“It was definitely Earle,” he tells Harry. “He and Coop always had similar pieces, but Coop always made modifications to his own. Earle, as you may recall, prefers knives.”

Albert lets himself sigh in relief. It will only be his own action--bringing Cooper back--that will require a cover-up. That is, if it works. Albert does not pray often--or really at all--but he prays that this hare-brained scheme works.

*****

Cooper is still on the heavy narcotics after Albert’s last ditch effort to save his friend from the Devil. It’s the only reason he feels safe enough to leave Deputy Hawk on their door and meet Harry in the Great Northern bar for what he hopes will be many, many drinks. God knows when Albert takes Cooper off the drugs, he won’t be able to leave his side.

“You’ve known him a long time,” Harry starts. He doesn’t say anything else, as if he knows that Albert will either talk or be entirely noncommittal. His choice.

Albert takes a swig of his, frankly, terrible beer and wishes for scotch. “I was brought in to Gordon’s Circus of Weirdos a year or two after Cooper and by then, he was already starry-eyed over Earle. I never understood it. The man always made me feel like I had worms crawling through every orifice. A couple other agents… they didn’t like him much either.” He snorted, “But try telling Cooper that.” 

“And then Caroline?”

Albert nodded. “Once the veil has been removed, Cooper is very good at seeing what others would like to hide. But so long as he’s got the starry-eyes-”

“That’s why you hate Twin Peaks,” Harry says, with his own remarkable insight. Harry, indeed, may be the only good thing in Twin Peaks.

Albert doesn’t deny it, “I saw the look in his eyes. Heard him talk about you people,” he shook his head, “And look where it got him. Right the fuck back where he started.”

Harry doesn’t jump to the obvious defense of his home, his citizens. He remembers how Harry talked about the old woods, the mystery and evil of them and thinks many Harry just understands better than Albert gives him credit for.

“You see more than you give yourself credit for,” Harry says in an echo of Albert’s thoughts. He meets the sheriff’s eyes, startled. “You may be a forensic genius, Albert, but I’ve watched you march into a room and tell Cooper exactly what you think and feel. I’ve watched you watch him. You see more than you let on. Whatever intuition Cooper seems to have about crime, you seem to have about him.”

Albert takes a deep breath, trying to get rid of the tickling sensation that radiates from his chest, and knocks back the rest of his beer. He doesn’t know shit about Dale Cooper and maybe he never did.

*****

They never find Earle and after a while, they just start to imagine him either dead or so old he can barely wipe his own ass much less orchestrate Dale’s death. 

On the anniversary of Caroline’s death, a day when Albert generally leaves Dale to his own devices, the man surprises him by asking him to take a walk by the FDR Memorial. Dale likes the fountains. Albert likes the quotes.

“I’ve never apologized to you,” Dale tells him quietly as they walk. There are plenty of tourists, but it’s early enough in the day that they are generally reverent folks. No whiny children. No assholes complaining about socialism.

“What for?” Albert asks, genuinely confused.

“You saw the truth of Windom Earle when no one else did.”

Albert refrains from mentioning Chester Desmond. “A bad feeling isn’t the same thing as knowing the truth, Coop,” he tells him. “Irrational hatred of the man you seemed to adore was not predicated on some kind of psychic understanding of just how bumfuck crazy that asshole was. I just hated that you admired him.”

Previous discussions of Earle had always been in the context of his crimes and what he did to Dale. It has never been about what he _was_ to Dale.

Dale’s hand stops him, urges him to turn to face him. His eyebrows are furrowed. “We’ve never truly spoken about the… length and breadth of our feelings,” he starts, “I know that my own grew so subtly that I can hardly state when they started, but it was not the same for you, was it.”

Albert immediately feels exposed. Whatever they are to each other now, to admit how long he has loved Dale Cooper would be like exposing every nerve in his body to a taser. Dale wouldn’t ridicule him, would not even feel badly for not returning his feelings earlier, but Albert couldn’t help thinking that despite both of those things, Dale would pity him. That, Albert cannot abide.

“What does it matter?” he asks, forcing a response through the roughness in his throat. 

“Because I think it has everything to do with Windom Earle.”

Everything is very quiet. They’re the only ones in this section of the memorial and the only sound is the water of the fountains and the faint rush of the Tidal Basin. 

“I’ve loved you practically since I met you,” he grinds out. “I _knew_ after Earle tried to spill your guts in Pittsburgh.” He meets Dale’s eyes with defiance, but there’s not pity there, not even amazement.

Son of a bitch, Dale is _grateful_. 

“I do not think you know, Albert, how much I have struggled with fear and with anger in the past. Those vulnerabilities gave BOB an entrance into my very soul. When you brought me back and took care of me, I began to see that no amount of surface tranquility could compensate for the depths of my fears. Not when someone who seemed so angry and unpleasant on the surface could contain such multitudes of kindness and warmth. Earle… saw my anger and my fear and fed off of it. I became little more than a vessel for his perversity. But somehow… you saw through us both.”

Albert purses his lips and looks away. “Does that help? To think that I knew something and did nothing?”

“You loved me, Albert. What more could I ask?”

Albert knows perfectly well that Dale Cooper could ask him for anything; if it is in his power to give, Albert will move mountains to give it to him. As Dale takes his hand and smiles at him, Albert thinks, just maybe, Dale will do the same.


End file.
